


Wolf Moon

by Miorjah



Category: Original Work
Genre: Celtic, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feral Behavior, Norse, Pack Dynamics, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Vikings, Werewolf, Werewolf Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miorjah/pseuds/Miorjah
Summary: A Norse and Celtic inspired tale of a young runaway princess and her stumbling into the arms of The Wolf King, an alpha "Vargulfr" in charge of a sacred grove with his other exiled wolf-blood brethren.This is a transcribed roleplay between me and my partner.
Relationships: Human (f) / Werewolf (m)
Kudos: 18





	1. Runaway

The moon was high in the sky, she could feel the soles of her feet bleeding and her heart ached but she didn’t care. The forest flew past her as she ran, her feet hitting the earth like the rain had moments before, the earthy smell of the fallen rain is all that painted her face. It stuck to her tattered pale blue gown and her damp tawny hair as the rain dried from her form with every step.

She was in the unknown, danger at any moment and turn but Miorjah had never felt so free. She couldn’t bare to be there a moment longer, staring at that grotesque pig-like man her father had planned out for her, she’d wed this old man and unite their nations but she was never going to do that, she knew she deserved better. She had been so happy, so excited, imagining a strapping, confident warrior who would sweep her off her feet and give her a happy ending. If that was with that disgusting old fool, it wasn’t going to happen. She’d rather be eaten alive, or so she cried out before disappearing into the night.

So she was here, out in the unknown. It was the full moon, the wolf moon. The towering forest was a hunting ground, or so the warriors who ventured outside the town’s walls claimed. Monstrosities prowled the forest on this bloody moon with eyes like wolves that could speak like men. She didn’t believe them, monsters and magic were old wives tales. Maybe if she was five years younger, her big blue eyes still filled with innocent wonder and not crippled by a world who saw her disposable.

She felt herself wheeze as she finally slowed and fell onto her knees into the dirt, her hands tangling in the dead leaves and seeing her mousy hair fall around her to shield her tired face. She stood there as the wind sung across the treetops and only her own panting filled her ears. She gave into her aching limbs and tired eyes by flopping down into the moss and dirt of the forest floor. She felt her legs throbbing and the gashes seem to settle as she finally gave rest. Her eyes drifted behind her, praying no light follow. 

She only saw darkness, and that calmed her. There was only darkness around her and the moon streaming in above her from the treetops. She somehow felt safe, all alone in this dark forest. She couldn’t sleep, her body hurt too much, but the moon’s light gave her deep comfort.

Lying there in the dark forest, the moonlight spotlighting her through the thick canopy around her, the world was quiet. If this place was as cursed and terrible as the people said then surely the critters of the forest were too fearful to come out at night. That is when the monstrosities hunted their prey, after all. They were creatures of the night, feeding on little girls and boys who wandered into the forests. That's what the stories said growing up in town. A boogey man of fur and fang.

The sound of a snapping twig would break the silence. From a distance, yellowed eyes stared into her before darting away as soon as she met them. A trick of the mind? She had been running so long, trekking through this forest and losing blood. The branches above rustled with a calm wind whispering through the forest.

Her blood rain cold as the snap, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up and pale blue eyes widen. Miorjah forced herself to sit up quickly, feeling her head swim and the world spin around her as she darted her head around and briefly saw that blur of lamp like-like eyes deep in the darkness. She let out a painted gasp and clutched her head in her hands, feeling the woozy pain of her exhaustion and the sudden adrenaline that hit her at that noise, then dragging her hands down her face, covering her pale face in wet dirt. There was a pause as she looked around, the notion of calling out swirled in her mind but was quickly silenced for what else it could call.

She would hear the beast before she saw him again, that low growl panging in her heart as the prey instincts buzzed in the woman. There was no hiding from the beast when she was lit in the beacon of the moon, especially displayed for all to see even in this dark wood. How she got here he didn't know why she was here he didn't care. This was a common response to sensing them... How they cowered in fear at their mere presence. This one, at least, didn't bring a weapon if they were foolish enough to choose fight over flight. But she was no fighter, that was clear to see... A mere girl, muddy and tired from running through the forest she didn't belong.

Furrowing his brow, he rested himself against the tree and slowly his form diminished... He was a shapechanger, as much a wolf as a man. Regardless, he was a large man. Standing clear over six foot, the muscled figure was an intimidating sight regardless of the visage he wore. Long brown hair was slicked back with a calloused hand to appear a little more presentable, him still soaked from head to toe by the rains earlier. Thick fur was hard to dry, after all.

He stepped out from the tree, taking a few heavy paces towards the girl huddled in fear. He wore little, merely a furred kilt, boots and bracers. Bare chested, the wolf of a man was littered in scars and a thick coat of hair still glistening with moisture. His voice let out in a deep, gruff tone. 

"You're far from home, girl." he said with narrowed eyes.

In contrast to the towering half-wolf before her, Miorjah was a willowy, delicate looking girl. Sitting in the grass disguised her height, but she was still diminutive compared to this towering burly man that stood before her. On instinct her head pounded hard, hearing it once again as she tried to desperately scramble away, her attempting to stand but her legs gave out quickly as she let out a pained cry as she fell back into the forest floor, slamming her head back down on the dirt that made her clutch the back of her head again. 

She let out a pained whine as she stared back up at him, her eyes fluttering as she glanced over his form. It took her a moment of staring at the towering, kilt-donned man before her to speak. She coughed nervously and wrapped her arms around herself. "I-I'm just passing through." She spoke nervously.

Fenris inspected her for a long, silent moment as she quivered before him. The savage looking man held a stoic expression, frowning slightly as he made his assessment. He took a step closer until he was looming over her like a towering spire.

"This forest is dangerous for travelers." he paused, letting his words sink in as he bore his bestial gaze upon her, a long scar running down one of the eyes and his irises an unmistakable golden color that glowed ever so faintly in the darkness.

"You're hurt. Won't make it out without treating the wounds." he grunts harshly.

The long stare and this massive man walking towards her had her try and shrink, her curling her torn up knees to her chest. She felt like she was standing in front of a towering apex predator, at death's door but it was just a man, a normal man. Probably from some sort of camp or village across the forest, right? Right. She swallowed nervously and seemed surprised as his mention of her wounds. She looked down at herself, inspecting her battered hands, knees and feet. She felt the pains of pain and that her ankles had had enough, she didn't think she could get up.

"I-I... I know..." She admitted, her cringing as she tried to shift on her feet, making a small pained sound as she tried her best to relax.

Fenris frowned at her, reaching out with a massive hand to grasp her arm as he slowly lowered himself to one knee. So fragile, humans. He could break her with the snap of his fingers in truth.. But he knew his strength. He held her with a tight but not uncomfortably so grip, giving her a nod to try and stand with his aid.

"Predators can smell your blood.. I will take you in until you heal. After that, you leave this place. Understood?" he said firmly, squeezing her arm to drive the point home. His eyes were steely and firm. There was an utter confidence and dominating presence to them.

Miorjah felt her face flush as he lowered himself down and reached out for her little willowy arm. Fenris has a closer look at her now, she was clearly no warrior or peasant woman, her gown was finely made and embroidered in a pleasing floral pattern, likely tattered from traveling. She was mostly bare of jewelry but a long thin silvery necklace that ended in a beautiful deep blue sparkling stone. Her body was free of scars and instead delicate, minimal freckles of the time in the sun being for pleasure, not hard labor. She was a pretty thing, that streak of pale hair, like moonlight gave her a peculiar allure and look. 

She nodded firmly as he spoke. "O-Okay..." She paused as she slowly tried to stand with his help, letting out another pained gasp as her legs shook from the pain. She had been running for what felt like hours, and her body was at its limit.

He stared at the beautiful, delicate woman for a touch too long, snapping out of his staring as she let out a noise in pain. He instinctively loosened his grip but didn't stop holding onto her while his other arm went to support her back. With him keeping her still, he slowly swept her off of her feet and into the cradle of his arm with a swift motion.

"I will carry you." he said, those golden eyes travelling over her form once more before they lingered on the stone curiously, then the matching eyes she wore.

As he stood up tall and to his full height, she felt him adjust his grip on her so that she could comfortably lay in his arms, the hand at her wrist moving to support a second half of her. She'd feel herself be pulled close to the hulking man's chest, his warmth radiating even in the cold night air.

Miorjah let out a squeak as he quite literally, swept her off her feat. She flailed nervously for a moment with a kick of a battered leg into the cold air, then one of her hands snapping out to hold onto something on him- which for a brief moment was his damp brown hair, then tangled into his shoulder when she tugged and it wasn't firm. She gasped a quick "s-sorry!" as he stood up tall and shifted her in his heavy arms. 

She was rather light, but he could feel the soft plush that matched her soft life before, a woman who lived in comfort found herself safer in the wilderness. It was odd, she must be from one of the villages that splattered the rolling mountainous hills that cradled the forest. She seemed to cling onto him as he brought her close, head resting against his shoulder as she was still shivering and distinctly cold, she felt so cold. The little she wore wasn't going to protect her from the frost of the night, and the rain would have spelled her certain doom, especially if she had just laid out there.

He was handsome, but it wasn't that knight in shining armor handsome. No, he was a rugged and experienced man who had known fighting all his life it seemed. His muscles were well honed and his senses keen. There was a beastial nature about him, this savage stranger that wore clothes of furs rather than fine textiles, that had lived a far harder life than the delicate woman in his arms. 

He growled lightly, showing sharp canines at the hair pulling, snorting when she found her grip and gave her a firm nod. As she shivered, he frowned and held her closer to him, speaking in his deep voice to her. She could feel his chest rumble as he spoke.

"You are either brave or stupid, running into these woods." he started as he began to walk back to the canopy, leaving the pool of moonlight behind in favor of the dark unknown. Somehow, he must have known the way. His senses were unnaturally sharp.

There was a silent from her for a bit, she let the sounds of the wind and nature intermingled with his heavy heartbeat and steps fill her ears. She could see the fading tattoos and scars all over his form, she bit her tongue with the impulse to ask him how he got them, but she wasn't exactly in the mood for a long tale of a mighty beast or battlefield, she had her fill hours before.

"S-stupid." The mousy woman admitted with that same stumbling as she had said before. "I-I couldn't be there anymore.." She mumbled the last part nearly under her breath, her pale blue eyes glancing up at him. She realized something that had her lip tense. "Who are you?"

His heavy steps only shook her slightly as he walked through the dark woods, the faint light of his eyes nearly the only thing that kept her from being consumed by pitch blackness all around. Every now and then she could see a faint pillar of light from the moon peeking through, but here in the deep woods it was hard to find clearings like the one they had just departed. The roots grew over one another, fighting for dominance in this unforgiving forest. Only the strongest survived, and he was strong. She was not.

"I'm the monster you were warned about." he says with a grim seriousness. 

"I will not hurt you, but you must close your eyes until I say you can open them again." he turned his head down to look at her, stopping in his tracks. As she looked at him, those golden orbs narrowed observantly.

Miorjah's eyes fluttered. "Y-you're what?" She asked, her hand on his shoulder tightening as much as she could, but it wasn't even painful to him. "Wh- no..." She stumbled over her thoughts that spiraled in confusion. He was lying, he had to be lying, he was just ... A giant, weirdly hairy wolf-eyed man living in pelts out in the woods. 

Okay. Maybe it was possible, maybe this was a trick he played so people weren't afraid of them. Her thoughts spiraled that him speaking again and pausing to stare down with her with those deep golden eyes. She felt so small, that feeling of being hunted surged up her spine as she slowly released her hand from his shoulder. "Y-you... You won't eat me, right?" She asked.

She could feel the hair on his chest thickening, the arms around her bulging as he slowly morphed into his wolven form. A long snout grew and below was a great maw of sharpened teeth. She could feel his fingers turning to claws, the razor-like nails resting against her easily able to shred the woman's flesh if he so chose. But... He was surprisingly gentle. This giant of a man, of a wolf, knew his strength and his power well.

In the grip of this monster, she felt hot breath breathing down on her and the warmth of his thick coat fight back against the freezing cold of the night air. He was like a blanket. A giant, horrifying, man eating blanket.

"I prefer deer." he says, his voice warping deeper and turning into a low, baritone growl.

"Now close your eyes, girl." he said, turning her towards his chest so that she couldn't stare up at him as easily.

For a moment, Miorjah's face was one of pure confusion and horror, seeing those eyes like golden flames and that long heavy snout of a wolf replace the intimidating bearded face of this still nameless man. She wanted to cower but was trapped in a cage of his long claws. So, she slowly reached her dirty hands back up to her face, covering her eyes with her hands as she felt her body shiver out of a fear she was trying hard to control. 

Despite that fear, she took his deep words seriously, her hands gripping into her freckled temples to try her best of hiding her eyes from the dark forest that surrounded them.

"You humans hunt us like beasts. I do not trust you knowing the way to our home." he grunts in that heavy voice, holding her gently against him as she let her adjust to the fearful circumstances.

"You will be healed and then I will take you to the edge of the forest. You will forget what you saw here."

"I-I.. I didn't think you were real, no one did." She whispered against his dark fur. "I-I understand.." She said, her small hands turning into fists over her eyes.

"There are some that do. Hunters scour the woods to rid it of us whether you know it or not. Say they do the will of God." the massive beast scoffs, his fur bristling in frustration. He goes silent for a moment, thinking to himself. The cool wind rustles past them, biting at her cold skin and soaked dress. His arms around her shielded most of it, but nothing could protect her completely while they moved.

"You are a brave and curious one. Ask what you will, no one will believe you, I suppose." He says with a sigh, a mix of amusement and concession.

"Y-you're a wolf-man, why didn't you kill me?" She asked into his heavy fur, wishing more and more she had taken a cloak before she ran off. It'd be fine. Maybe. She hoped. "Are you a wolf-man? Or do you call yourself something else?" She asked, then.. kept going. "Why are you so close to my village? Are you from my clan?"

He regretted it almost immediately. So chatty, this one. Too many questions all at once. Furrowing his brows and letting out a light huff, he pauses to think about what he cared to reveal.

"You didn't come here with a sword." he starts curtly, her feeling his hot breath on her once more as he lowered his head to look at her. Such a delicate and meek woman, yet here she was in his arms already asking such things.

"We are the Vargulfr. Shape changers. We are here to protect sacred ground, come from scattered places."

She kept her hands firmly over her eyes as she felt his breathe brush against them, her feeling goosebumps across her form. "I-I see." She said with a cute squeak to her voice. She was shivering under his grip but yet her curiosity overtook her fear, that was odd. Most humans were deathly afraid, but she seemed just more... nervous.

"Vargulfr... What sacred ground? Here, in the forest?" She asked oblivious to his displeasure.

"What have you heard about us, little human? Let's start there." he snorted, bringing her closer against his chest and tighter as he seemed to step over something followed by the crack of a branch as he seemed to break something in his wake. The massive wolf was careful with her in his arms, moving fairly stealthily, but a creature as large as this was naturally a little destructive.

As they continued to travel, the faint sound of a running stream would catch her ears, water trickling past the thick clusters of trees.

"My mother used to tell me the stories of wolves who walked like men that came and took livestock in the night, then once the livestock was gone, they would come after children. Always was to keep me inside when I wanted to go to the lake and watch the night." She mumbled. "That even the wolves whose visages they took feared them. My father claimed the old pelt on his throne was a wolf-man he slaughtered, black as pitch."

As she spoke of the pelt he stopped in his tracks, pausing for a long moment. The grip on her tightened and she could feel his claws ever so faintly scratching against her skin. Not enough to pierce it, but enough to feel. He growled low at her.

"Family of killers. Why should I trust you, then?" he said, letting out a quiet snarl and showing his sharp canines if she dared to look at him.

Miorjah's fingers shifted from her eyes as they stopped, feeling his grip tighten and the sudden stop frightened her to her core. She froze for a moment, letting that pain in her chest ball and grow into her throat.

"I-I can't.. hurt you.." She paused. "T-they're not my f-family anymore. My mother is long dead and.. I never.. w-want to go back there, I ran away for a reason." She stumbled over her words. "I-I'm sorry."

He holds her there for a long moment, his claws tightening and breaking the skin from one of the sharp nails only faintly in his anger. He stops himself from doing more, and she can feel him tighten himself. Slowly, he relaxed. His shoulders untensed, and his breathing returned to normal. His heartbeat slowed down, her feeling the thumping beside her ear so close to him in this compromising position.

"You will tell me more about him, but not now." he grunts in frustration, taking another step forward. Pace by pace, he returns to the steady speed he had been going before. Ducking under fallen trees and stepping over the brush here and there, they tore a line through the forest. There were no paths in places like these, only the ones you made.

Got it!" She squeaked nervously as the feeling of his claws in her pale flesh hurt, and it hurt bad. She held her tongue as he relaxed and released her as she closed her hands back around her eyes. "O-okay." She said softly, her trying to curl up in his clawed grip and press her lithe body against his chest. She felt so week and afraid, but somehow she felt less afraid than those hours before in her home, the world felt like it was collapsing around her, maybe she could convince this monster to go kill them, and maybe then she - no that's a stupid idea. She visibly shook her head to herself against his chest, her mind swimming at the mistake she had just made and what could happen to her, honestly - death sounded better than the life under a pig's boot.

After a long silence, Fenris spoke once more.

"We call it the Moon Oak. We have a well there, of blessed water. We worship the moon, it helps us control our powers. I brought everyone here." he explains slowly, his voice tinged with an apologetic tone as he notices how he'd injured and frightened her. If she was a runaway, she wasn't all that different from his pack.

Miorjah's eyes opened under her hands as he spoke, her shifting in his hand. "How many others, are there... ones like you?" She asked curiously, her pausing. "Y-you don't have to tell me, if you don't want too. I just.. I thought you guys were old stories, not... Flesh and... Fur?" She visibly tensed again, her legs curling to cover herself as her gown fluttered around her battered knees and curled up her pale thighs. "The moon has brought me comfort, too."

She could see the beast clearer now, those sharpened teeth that lined a hungry maw. Those molten gold eyes that stared forward with purpose. The massive claws that held her against him, and the faint cut that he had caused.

"About thirty. Some come, some go. They are called to the Oak for cleansing, and I protect it from the hunters." the wolf-man started, lowering his face to look back down at her with narrowed eyes.

"Keep them closed, girl. We're almost there." he says, snorting at her.

So she did, squeezing them closed and balling her hands into fists that covered her eyes completely, her legs crossing over each other and she shoved her face more into his chest.. "Y-you never answered me.. who are you?" She asked softly against him, then continued. "I-I meant, your name. You can't just be "wolf man." Right?" She was half-joking, but couldn't resist the question.

"Fenris Svartulf." he paused, taking a long breath. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting her weight in his arms before taking another step forward. She could feel a shift in his demeanor as the crunch of leaves and underbrush transitioned to hard stone.

"We're here." he said with a grunt, allowing her to open her eyes.

Before her, a massive oak with roots twisting around an open area that held a stone fountain inside. Surrounding the oak on all sides, cliff sides that were spotted with cavern openings covered by beads and furs with pathways guiding up and down. In front of the oak, a massive firepit that hadn't been lit on the full moon night. Beyond the oak, a huge stone cave far larger than the others that surrounded the little valley that held the tree. It all seemed a proper village, even if it was primal and ascetic.

Fenris... It was a fitting name, similar to the wolf of end-times, perhaps ironic, or intentional, to strike fear. It somehow fit him as that ruggedly handsome man and this horrifying monster with eyes like bonfires. But he looked less horrifying under the moonlight and in this primalistic village. She slowly let her hands fall to her chest as she looked around and into that massive hollow oak. She seemed enamored for a moment, as if this place was somehow comfortable. She wanted to reach out and explore but the ache in her still bleeding feet reminded her that this wasn't something she could do. So she instead softly spoke. "Fenris.. It's really pretty here."


	2. The Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair bunk down for the night, and a discovery is made.

He let her eyes wander for but a moment, him grunting and stepping forward.

"You will stay with me, I will prepare a bed for you." he says firmly, his brows furrowing as he inspected her briefly.

The wolf man walked her towards the oak, past the bonfire. All around the cliff sides, glowing eyes and both beastial and human shapes shown themselves peeking out of their dens. She was in the thick of it now, no going back.

Miorjah nodded softly, her hands tangling back in his long fur and mane, seeing the braids and bangles tightly woven in them. He looked absolutely terrifying, but she didn't feel afraid, no feelings of horror. Her only reply to him as an "okay", as she felt awfully tired, her body getting more used to the aching pain of what she had been through. This place was somehow beautiful and comfortable. She glanced around as they walked, seeing those shapes look on curiously but not close enough for her to see who, or what they were.

She was really a peculiar human, one who ran from murderers and raiders into the claws of a monster to seek a chance at freedom.

As they entered the oak, she was able to see a closer look of the well. It seemed like an ancient thing, this pool of water and its stone construction. The liquid inside sparkled like the stars above, but was blue as a clear summer day. The stone was carved here and there with runic symbols, strange and alien to her. Whatever it was, this place was significant. He had said something about purification before...

Past the oak was the largest cavern, two large drapes of fur easily parting with a shove and opening up to a large room with branching paths that led to other draped sections. In the dark she saw little, simply being led to one with a faint glow underneath the flap. What she came upon was a bedroom, a massive bed large enough to fit the beast that called it home. A table and chair sat nearby, along with a fireplace that seemed to funnel the smoke up a hole that led above. 

Fenris would set her down to sit on the chair, stretching his muscles after the long walk and carrying the woman. Here, she could see him fully. In the light, she saw him at his full height unbarred by angle. But just as she began to get a good look he turned from her view, slowly shrinking and morphing back to the bearded, long-haired man she had seen previously. It was a strange process to see, and it hardly looked comfortable.

She looked like a child seeing the stars for the first time, her eyes dancing across the small sparkling pools and carved runestones. She didn't smile proper but only slight, more visible on her soft cheeks. Her expression faded in the brief darkness to one of nerves and placid acceptance, she gripped his chest as they came into the bedroom, it was decidedly homey in a weird way.

Being placed down in the chair was a slight relief as she slumped, letting her body relax against the wood and her brushing off her hands on her blue gown as her eyes remained on the massive black wolf, slightly enchanted by a creature that seemed so magical, but not for long. She watched him warp and fold back into that kilt-donned, older man she had met before. She for a moment wondered how they were the same creature, then spoke. "I-I can.. try and mend my own wounds, I need bandages, I think." She groaned, slowly moving to lift one of her feet to rest on the knee of the other, pulling out a small stone from her bloody foot.  
"You will sleep here as my guest." the shapeshifter started, still with his back to her. She could see past wounds of many years of conflict here too, whether it be a nasty slash or a wound that seemed to originate from some arrow or bolt. The man had seen hell as much as he inflicted it, probably.

"I will bring you some." he nodded simply, the scarred man stepping through the fur drape door and giving her a moment of privacy. From the other room she heard his footsteps and faint rustling, digging through supplies.

Her eyes wandered and wondered on those scars and faded tattoos, old stories to tell or to be forgotten. He had seen a hard life, it made her wonder why he'd spare her kindness, especially after... She wasn't going to press, that's probably a terrible idea. She spoke out a small and blunt "okay," clearly more occupied by her battered feet. 

When he left, she slowly brushed her palm and thumb against the bottom of her foot, brushing away the sticks and rocks and plant life and wanting to wash the wounds, they wouldn't need to be cauterized or anything, but it hurt. She found herself softly humming, a distraction from her pain and the chill from her damp clothes she wore, even despite the warm fire. She seemed to cute and innocent, noble girls were often naive and curious to a fault and she embodied that well.

When Fenris returned, he brought with him bandages and some sort of ointment for application. It smelled vicious as soon as he opened the little jar it was contained it, even he curled his nose at it, but he set it down at the table in front of her and turned to his bed, where a great fur blanket lie over the bundles of hide that made up his rather comfortable looking bed, even if it was far from what she was used to.

He sat down there on the edge of it, giving a long sigh before cocking his head to the side and watching her.

"You'll need to get those clothes off, you'll catch hypothermia. I'll let you dry in the blankets once you are wrapped." he nods, simply sitting and waiting for her, a roll of the thick cloth tied around his hand loosely and waiting.

It didn't take long to clean her feet, and apply that disgusting smelling ointment and wrap them in bandages, they still ached by far less and when she placed her feet down to tend to her knees, she felt like she could stand. She just needed bandages and rest, or maybe it was the addition of the pelt-covered floor that made her feel comfortable. Miorjah slowly drifted up to look at the towering wolf man, as he watched and then spoke. She hesitated for a moment, then looked down at her wet, muddy, and tattered gown that was once beautiful. 

She nodded at his comment gently. "O-okay.. I.. can.." She moved to slowly stand, her legs visibly shaking as she reached out for the cloth, expecting him to hand it to her.

He stood, taking a step closer and narrowing his eyes at the meek little woman before him.

"You can barely stand. Do you need help with the dress?" he asked, slowly unwinding the bandage as he gestured towards her soaked clothing, cloth in hand. Upon closer look it seemed handmade with wool. It reminded her of all those missing sheep that had disappeared supposedly by their hands. A tasty snack, someone once said. If so, they were resourceful beyond the meat.

"N-no! I'm fine!" She squeaked out as she seemed to settle on her feet, brushing her hair back with her hands. She hesitated for a long moment, then took a step forward successfully, then took another and promptly stumbled forward, falling onto her knees with a pained cry that had her hands slam down on the floor to keep herself from flopping down face first. "I-I... I'm maybe not fine.."

Fenris winced as he saw her fall. This poor delicate thing, so helpless at this state. How the humans had posed such a threat all these years to his people when so many were like her, he only had to wonder. Numbers, surely. The malice in their hearts. But this one didn't hate, didn't run. She was curious, even. He set down the spare cloth bandages onto the bed, more to dress her wounds when the time came to change them.

Instead, his eyes scanned the bed for something she might wear instead to keep her a little more warm. What he settled on was a spare top of some kind, made of soft furs and akin in style to the tabards the guards might wear in the castles of her home. But instead of insignia of their leaders, this one was far more ascetic with simple practicality in mind. On her, it would be more like a dress at the top of the tabard would likely hang low enough to expose her chest. Such was the make of these massive people - they would be hard pressed to find something so tiny to fit her just right. Fenris didn't seem to think about that however, clothes were clothes and she needed the warmth of it and the thick blankets on his bed, not modesty. From his own clothing, mostly bare save for boots and short kilt and bracers for fighting, he was hardly shy to show his body; And quite the body it was.

He stepped forward with the tabard like cloth in hand, reaching out with his other one to help her to her feet. His massive hand gripped her at the forearm, hauling her up with a swift motion. She felt his strength in the moment, how easily it would be to pull or push her around with a faint bit of weight in his movements. Nonetheless, while slightly rough, he didn't jerk her hard enough to hurt her or anything. With a stern look he frowns at her, "That dress is torn and ruined. You'll make use of this while you are here, or anything else we find." he says, reaching out unceremoniously to grab the skirt of her dress and begin pulling it up to her waist, over her head if she didn't stop him.

She felt her head swirl and swim from dizziness as she remained staring down at the padded floor, hearing his heavy footfalls and the soft rustling as he moved around her and pulled out that tunic. She felt so tired and weak, her whole body hurt. She tried to perk up as she heard him approach, the heavy footfalls growing in front of her till she could see those heavy boots. She went to speak but instead gasped as her forearm was grabbed and she was hoisted up onto her feet where she swayed and grabbed at his chest, her dull nails sinking into his skin. The brunette barely had time to react before she felt his hands grab at her tattered gown and pull it upwards, it suddenly woke her up and she gasped out and stammered as her face flushed. "H-hey!" She yelped as it was pulled over her waist, her initial reaction was to step back which pulled the dress over her head and had her fall back onto the ground in his hands.

There was a moment of her pausing slightly stunned on the ground, now completely nude. She was completely pale all over, as expected and covered in a splatter of light freckles and... A marking that at first could be a burn, but lacked any scarring - it was a defined mark plastered over her lower stomach of a crescent moon laid on its side, surrounded by what looked like four stars. Fenris had seen that symbol before, but never on a person, More old lore and carvings. Miorjah quickly moved to pull her legs up in an attempt to cover herself.

Fenris stared wide-eyed at her for a long moment, pausing in stunned disbelief at the sight of the mark. It was unmistakable, but where was it from? He rattled his mind as he grimaced in deep thought. Something important about it.. He let out a sigh as he realized he would have to consult with the druid. She would know more, surely. He had been so consumed in surprise at the mark he almost didn't stop a beat to admire just how beautiful her form was. Almost.

His eyes narrowed and returned to that stern poker face he seemed to hold often times. The bestial wolf of a man reached out to grab one of the smaller pelts on his bed before returning his attention to her as if nothing had happened. Holding his hand out to wait for her to grab this time, he spoke in that calm, deep and rumbling voice.

"Stand up." he grunted, the furred tabard bundled with the blanket in his offhand. While his voice was firm, there was no threat in his command; Simply an expectation to follow his orders.

Miorjah was completely flushed and looked perhaps a touch uncomfortable, okay, more exceptionally embarrassed. "Modesty" was something she had, that Fenris wasn't raised with. She sat staring at him as she watched his stunned expression as it slowly faded back to that stoic, almost cold one he had been wearing this entire time. Miorjah felt frozen as Fenris went to the pelt and turned back to her with that extended calloused hand. 

She stared at it for a moment before slowly extending a singular hand to reach out to him and gently placed it in his hand. Her hands were little, even for her stature. She gripped his hand gently and moved to try and stand with her legs shaking slightly underneath her.

Fenris held her steady as he shifted her to rest against him, nude as she was. He didn't have time to worry about her embarrassment, her getting sick was becoming more likely by the minute. So he dropped the shirt to the ground to be picked up momentarily, instead taking the smaller fur blanket and rubbing her body down as he used it like a towel. Scrubbing her dry roughly, she was jerked this and that way by his massive arms. Luckily, he made it easy to hold onto him and keep her steady with one wrapped around her like a lock that had lost its key. Protective, almost. Jailor or defender, he had taken care of her thus far and he seemed committed to finishing the job. If against his chest was a prison, it was a warm one.

When he was done rubbing her down like a wet dog after a bath he grunted in satisfaction, bending at the knee and reaching to take the furred tabard. He motioned for her to raise her arms with a upnod of the head and a gentle nudge with his arm against her own. The feral man had a commanding presence to him, whether he meant to be intimidating or not it was hard to say no to one who was this large and clearly used to dominating the world around him.

All he could hear from her as he dried off her damp form was small gasps and sounds of protest with her hand gripping at his chest and around one of his long braids. There was no getting out from under his grip and she had basically accepted that. Settling with her flushed face pressed against his chest as he dried her off like a wet dog. She, in contrast, was a submissive, placid and curious creature, one that likely would have settled into the life of a jarl's wife if it was a man like Fenris and not that corpulent pig that she had been presented too. It's something that grinded at the back of her mind as he finally released her but it was an unconscious thought that quickly faded.

When he finally released her and moved away for that brief moments, her hands went to cover her groin and in turn covered that peculiar birthmark. She stared as he picked up that fluffy tabard and tapped her like a trained creature. She hesitated and stared him down for a moment, then slowly parted her arms and lifted them to take the tunic from him.

As she raises her arms and takes the tabard he nods and continues to support her, but letting her do the work of sliding the garment onto herself. It was large, clearly something that he might wear in his human form. There were slight tears but a fair amount of elasticity in the material, seemingly built to accommodate his bestial form if he chose to morph into it while wearing the thing. Unfortunately, stretchiness was good for making things fit larger figures, not smaller ones. When she pulled it over her form the straps that hung above her arms fell down past her chest before the middle of the garment began. Just below and between her pert breasts, a large 'u' shape hung. If she maneuvered the arms of the garment just right she'd be able to cover her nipples but little else. Poor, shy little thing. He had a moment of amusement at the strangeness of her reaction. Nudity wasn't anything to be ashamed about, and she had a beautiful form even if she was a full blooded human.

He gave her no privacy throughout the process, staring forward at her and waiting for her to finish dressing. He made no move to offer any sort of pants to add along, knowing his would certainly not fit. Instead, she'd have to make do with the flap of leather and velvety, dark fur that covered between her legs with not much to keep them in place. A little wind would expose her from the bottom half with ease. 

When she was finished he squeezed her arm once more, motioning towards the bed with a content snort,

"You'll lie down. Cover yourself in blankets and rest, girl."

Once the tunic was on, Miorjah searched over it for some sort of ties or small straps only to find nothing to tie. The tunic hung loosely and eyed her now on the ground, muddy blue gown with a slight envy. Her hands slowly moved to the deep u, her face still that deep rosy tone from what had happened moments before and clearly wasn't about to fade anytime soon. She took in a deep breathe and slowly reached her back to her hair tangled in the tunic, pulling it out and placing it over her chest. It worked well enough. She shivered slightly as her limbs relaxed and hands curled into fists by her hips. She just felt exceptionally exposed, but this was fine. 

She, of course just gave in, feeling his fingers and palm push her forward with her arm that had her stagger forward for a moment, placing her hand on him to steady herself. It took Miorjah a moment of inspecting the almost nest-like bed before she crawled forward onto it, sitting down on the bed and curling her legs up and nearly under herself. "I.. Uhm.. Thank you."

The beast-man nods and grunts, his imposing figure standing tall and staring down at her with those molten gold eyes, as if assessing her. She was a peculiar one, the first to ever be entrusted with this location. It had to be the mark, something about it pulling in his mind. There was something about this woman that was different, but he couldn't quite place it. With frustration he huffs, going to turn as she spoke and stopping himself. He pauses for but a beat before turning back to her.

"You are my guest. We take care of guests." he says firm and confident, as if it was a given to be expected. Just how backward was this little human's culture?

"You will not wander the village and you will not leave this room unless I take you out. Understood?" he growls lightly, going to cross his arms and give her a stern and domineering look. It was the look you gave a mischievous trouble maker.

This little human stared back up at him with those pale eyes, lit only by the fireplace and looking tired and defenseless, typical for a little human. Part of her almost looked broken, despite her body unmarred and untrained but her submissive nature was both inherent and possibly beaten into her. Still, she seemed content in his presence despite the adventure they had been on. His quick reply had her lips tense nervously, her slowly shifting back on the bed and moving to grab one of the long white pelts that he was using as a blanket and pulled it around her like a coat.

"I-I understand." She replied as she seemed to slowly settle, her face only a soft flushed pink like it was a winter morning, her gaze broke as he crossed his heavy arms and stared her down. She felt weirdly flustered by this wolf-man and his piercing golden gaze, her slowly moving to lay down on her side under the pelt, curled up in as much of a ball she could form as her eyes drifted back up to him briefly.

He seemed content to watch her for a moment, his mouth curling in a very faint smile - the first she had seen since meeting him. She was an odd one, but perhaps having a guest wouldn't be so bad. That marking would be a nagging curiosity the longer he let the secret linger however, and he knew Gudfinna would not return until tomorrow for the rituals. And so he'd be stuck wondering, this strange beautiful girl occupying his bed while she recovered. 

A thought that should have been obvious crossed his mind, the hulking barbarian of a man giving a slow nod at her before dipping out of the room past the fur-flap door. From inside, she could hear his steps on the stone and rummaging as he dug through one of the storage pots. Soon after, he came back with an only slightly stale hunk of bread and berries from the local forest. Those bright red things looked juicy and fresh off the plant. It seemed the beasts ate more than men after all.

"Eat, girl. You must be starving."

It was hard to tell how long she'd be awake, sinking into the massive bed and that big fluffy pelt she wore as a blanket. She looked peaceful and content, as if she subconsciously felt safe around him. It was weird, after the mess of her life in the past twenty-four hours she finally felt safe, like back when her mother was still alive and the world was shiny and sparkling. well, she wouldn't use the words shining and sparkling now, not here. 

She felt herself drifting off to the sounds of rummaging, for whatever Fenris was looking for. When he returned with that hunk of bread and berries she slowly lifted her head, then let out a small yawn. She didn't say anything as she slowly sat up proper, extending out her hands and looking up at him with those tired eyes, it's clear she was trying to give a silent thank you as her body desperately wanted nothing more than to rest and heal.

He handed her the bread and a couple of the berries, giving her a grunt as he watched her eat, and taking a seat beside her in the bed. With a long sigh, his hands went up to his weary eyes, rubbing them. His shoulders slumped in relaxation in her presence. Something about her felt right, like she wasn't so alien after all. It had been a long time since he walked in human lands, spending so much of his life amongst the beasts he called kin. Hidden away in dark forests and caves seeking the next meal and fending for himself and his people. She would have to learn to adapt quickly if the recovery took long, or this strange marking meant something. But no need to worry her about it now. Gudfinna would have answers and then he would make his decision. 

Fenris rested a heavy hand on his shoulder, the massive thing enveloping the entire thing and some of her arm as well. Just to think how much he would envelop when he was transformed... Holding her with a faint grip, he stared at her with those golden, bestial eyes.

"You will be safe under my watch. Ask me for your needs, and I will provide." he said bluntly, like a pledge or an oath she may have heard by honorable warriors in the human lands she hailed from.

It was hard to resist more questions as she ate quietly, glancing at him occasionally as he watched her with that deep golden gaze. She seemed oddly calm in his presence, most humans only felt one thing staring into the eyes of a vargulfr only felt fear and the desire to fight or run. She instead seemed simply curious and mildly afraid, perhaps just the poor doll had a suicidal streak in her, humans seemed to. She slowly swayed as she ate, her head gently resting on his arm to keep her upright as she took her last bite of bread. "I.. I'll let you know." She said, a bit stunned by his firm nature and surety to his voice. It wasn't pity, but it just seemed this how he was, or maybe he had taken a liking to her. She couldn't tell. 

"Thank you for helping me out here, I don't think I'd be in one piece at this rate."

She continued to surprise him, this strange girl. So comfortable, comfortable enough to even lay her head on him as she began to doze off. If he hadn't been in control tonight and noticed her meek nature she might not have gotten this far. He was on the prowl when he came upon her, word of hunters out in the woods spreading through a travelling wolf that visited to cleanse himself once more.

She wasn't wrong before, that she was prey to his kind. That his kind feasted on human flesh if they so choosed or found themselves too lost in the bestial forms they wore. She was exceptionally brave, or exceptionally stupid. Either or, she was safe now. Safe with him watching over her. He sat on guard with her, letting her doze off as she ate and setting aside what scraps that remained onto the table before returning to her side. He would sleep with his back against the wall in a sitting position, letting her lay on him bundled in the fur blankets nice and tight as she burned away the growing cold in her system.

At some point in the night he awoke to her teeth chattering, her skin shivering. Taking the form of the great wolf inside of him, he pulled her close against his thick fur to keep her warm as her shivers slowly died down. His golden predators eyes stared down at her in the darkness, watching for a long moment before he felt himself escape to slumber once more.


End file.
